


Offering a hand

by Friggy



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M, This was a crackship i wrote as a gift for a friend, after the hand thing happened
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 03:49:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20167663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Friggy/pseuds/Friggy
Summary: Another old fic from over 4 years ago. Gift for a buddy. Crackship.





	Offering a hand

It takes some time for the two to become close enough that KnockOut would even consider offering his expertise in such a way, but eventually he asks Ultra Magnus if he may be allowed to craft him a new hand.

At first the other bot is reluctant, resources are still stretched thin and the doctor could occupy his time in far better ways.

KnockOut can see the subject is uncomfortable for the Chief. There's still much shame and feelings of inadequacy, but also gratitude towards Ratchet and his "family".

KnockOut still has trouble wrapping his brain around that particular concept, but he understands attachment (at least in the sense of wanting sadistic revenge for having someone taken away... he tries to stop thinking about "family" now).

In the short time he has known the Autobots he's come to realize that the best way to convince Ultra Magnus of something is by invoking it's practicality - a tactic that has worked for the others enough times to merit an attempt (even though KnockOut himself is not regarded with the same amount of trust) so he does his best to "sell" his idea and finishes with "It would sure come in _handy_, right?" while putting on his best hopeful smile.

If Magnus had been listening more and more intently up to that point, the last bit had made the big guy's face drop back down into it's usual slightly annoyed pout-like neutral mask. His optics dimmed a little and he _almost_ puffed - his vents were surprisingly silent for a bot that big, and a truck to boot. (KnockOut figured it was the Chief's best approximation of and exasperated sigh while still looking commanding and generally in charge).

Then Mr. Grumpy (this was KnockOuts new internal nickname for Magnus, no one would hear it, of course - he liked his head attached to his neck after all) turned on his struts and walked away.

No 'goodbye', no 'frag you' (to which KnockOut may or may not have responded with 'Maybe.' Or 'Really? Now?'), no ordering to go drown himself in a smelting pit... nothing.

It was unsettling and disturbing and all the weird scrap associated with putting his foot in his mouth and overstepping and not getting a claw upside the head for it (Megatron at least made things clear, damn terrifying - but clear. And he tolerated KnockOut's innuendo with a veneer of disgust – well, people here did almost the same, or they jut looked at him with a dull and pained expression, but still... it hurt a little). And so, Knockout was left behind, feeling like an insensitive allegory for a power drill.

He was usually **much** better with words. Not Starscream* level, but good enough to pacify Megatron. (*may Primus welcome his spark – probably… then again, knowing Starscream it was possible the screechy aft was fine and trying to overturn _himself_ if he were stranded alone somewhere. KnockOut would rather remain ignorant to the flyer's fate).

Good talker or not, he still felt like a rust-head but he also knew that he wasn't entirely wrong (just scrap-worded), the team and most of all, the Chief, would benefit greatly by having his hand back. But Knockout couldn't just do this on his own, whatever his good intentions, not only did he need approval but he also needed Ultra Magnus' cooperation and access to the other hand.

Really, who needed convincing to fix his hand? It was ridiculous. The big oaf was being prideful and modest and damnably honorable (his own blunder was being studiously overlooked by now) - so, KnockOut decided to play dirty.

He went to Ratchet.

Approaching Ratchet was like trying to pet a turbofox (not that KnockOut would ever _want_ to pet such vermin, or Ratchet for that matter… but this train of though was already derailing and the red bot needed to focus, however amusing the image of a turbofox Ratchet was – he even had the right _color_!)

"Ahem." The older bot was already looking at him expectantly, or more accurately – with great annoyance, he was tapping his foot and had one hand on his hip.

The other hand had a wrench clutched in it. Knockout could feel the cheeky grin on his face (from when he was imagining turbofox Ratchet – heh) melt away into sudden panic.

Scrap.

How was he going to start again?! He'd had a whole speech prepared. This time it was polite and to the point and no bad puns whatsoever!

"Uuuuh…" was the best he could come up with for now. The wrench was passed to the other hand as Ratchet shifted. KnockOut followed the movement with his optics, almost in a trance. In Ratchet's hands, it was a tool for both great creation, and utter destruction.

"Well?" how was this bot an ambulance, you were supposed to feel safe with physicians like him, not as though you were on the verge of getting a severe case of 'wrench-in-forehead' for being a doof.

KnockOut cleared his intake and tried to compose himself. The image of a growling turbofox came unbidden in his mind. He ignored it.

"Uuh… Good… weather we're having…" he wanted to bang his head on the wall. The one right next to him looked pretty good. He wondered if the medic would be offended at having his walls slightly dinged.

Then Ratchet did that thing he always does when young bots pester him too much (he'd noticed it with Smokescreen and sometimes Bumblebee, and surprisingly with Bulkhead) with that air of grudging patience of his, told KnockOut to take a seat, looked him in the optics after a moment and asked him what he had on his mind.

KnockOut couldn't help but explain his intentions in the simplest and sincerest way he could, just as it came in his head. His speech was all but forgotten.

Ratchet listened.

Actually _listened._

* * *

The annoyed expression gradually faded into pensiveness. He knew KnockOut was more than capable (whatever his previous misgivings), and he'd had experience with this before. The kid was bright, maybe even close to genius if he stopped fooling around long enough. But the real question was, could they _trust_ him?

Ultra Magnus had suffered enough, not just physically – the loss of his hand had dealt a great blow to his mental and emotional health, he was better now and getting used to his claw but what if this experiment (he couldn't call it anything else - yet) failed? The false hope wouldn't help anyone, least of all Magnus. They may be able to scrounge up the resources to take this on, the others would be more than willing to put in the extra effort, (not to mention the actual work needed in crafting a new hand from scratch, hands were complicated and delicate, lots of wires) but he wasn't sure if good intentions would make the cut.

The way KnockOut was explaining, it became apparent he had thought of this procedure extensively. And this might have been the only time he'd seen the kid be so… _candid_. Almost reminded Ratchet of himself back in the years when he was a wide-eyed idealist, just having started trying to help people.

Any other time, he would have questioned KnockOut's intentions, was he only trying to win points with the Autobots? Get more freedom? Access to better equipment faster? Perhaps it had started that way, it was entirely like KnockOut but now he saw genuine care. He wondered if the kid himself figured out why he was being so earnest, and so adamant about trying.

Optimus had been right in his parting speech (KnockOut's 'role models' be damned). He decided he'd give the kid a chance (after tapping* him with the wrench on his head for being a loose screw and scaring Magnus off with a badly timed joke.

*tapping may have been lightly put).

Ratchet commed Magnus and called him in, then he told KnockOut to make himself scarce.

* * *

It had taken him a while to explain his idea to the old medic. He still couldn't believe the bot had actually listened to him. He'd asked questions where he needed clarification and he'd been understanding. Even more surprising, he had _agreed_.

Too bad the rusty barrel had ruined the moment by clogging him on the head – that'd really hurt (deserved or not).

KnockOut was still clearing his brain of the ringing when he heard Ratchet calling the Chief in. The medic shooed him out and he'd barely had time to scamper away before Magnus reported in.

KnockOut watched Big Blue (another one of his private nicknames) go in, he tried to listen at the door but all he heard was muffled voices. At first it was Ratchet's, there was some arguing and the medic trying to be reasonable, he thought he heard a table getting banged on and his name mentioned and then Magnus' voice went up a few tones.

He'd never heard the big guy get angry, was it even anger? Perhaps he'd stumbled into something more delicate than he'd reckoned at first.

Just as he was retreating from the door and getting ready for a not-so-daring escape/retreat, it slid open. He could _feel_ Ultra Magnus behind him, saw the giant-shouldered shadow advancing over his. He almost squeaked when he felt the Chief's good hand slowly land on his shoulder to turn him around.

He looked fairly calm. Then again, he always looked calm, perhaps that was why KnockOut enjoyed pestering him so much lately, something about breaking that frown appealed to him, he hoped he wouldn't get _his_ face broken in, at any rate…

"Are you confident in completing this operation in an efficient and timely manner?" apparently there would be no face-breaking, and the question caught him a little off guard, Magnus almost looked… _hopeful_… It was strangely disarming.

"Yes, sir!" KnockOut got back on track quickly enough that his surprise at Magnus didn't register as doubt. He felt even more determined to succeed now.

The fact that he'd also get plenty of one-on-one time with the Chief was just _extra_ _benefits_.


End file.
